StarCrossed Lover
by The Master Planner
Summary: May Parker thinks the charming nuclear physicist is her second chance at love since her beloved Ben died. Too bad her protective nephew isn't exactly giving the happy couple his blessing!
1. When I'm Gone, by Peter

The Trickster sends greetings from her undisclosed location. I've been warning all Loyal Minions of this story via my profile for a few weeks and this story, "Star-Crossed Lover" is going to be to my previous work as the Minutes to Midnight album is to Hybrid Theory and Meteora. (Many ottophiles are Linkin Park fans. Don't know exactly why.) As always, read and review, and as the great philosopher Alfred E. Neuman once said, "What, me worry?"

Star-Crossed Lover

May Parker thinks the charming nuclear physicist may be her best chance at love since her beloved Ben died. But her nephew, Peter, isn't exactly giving the happy couple his blessing…

A note: All characters belong to Marvel, unless otherwise noted. All quotes I may use belong to their respective writers.

Another note: This fanfic takes place a few months after the _Spider-Man _trilogy. Peter Parker has not yet revealed his superhero identity to his Aunt May. Mary Jane knows, but Peter has requested that she keep it to herself. Otto Octavius is alive, but as a result of oxygen deprivation-related brain damage as a result of his near drowning, he seems to have forgotten his knowledge of Peter's identity.

Yet another note: I borrowed heavily from both movie and comic continuity (ultimate as well as amazing), as I do all my fics—but I also had to draw from the 90s cartoon as well for certain characters who will show up later.

Still _another_ note: Whether old or new, read and review! If you have a question, I'll answer it; if you compliment me, I'll thank you for it; if you criticize me, I'll try to correct it; if you flame me, you will get a sarcastic answer and your name blocked. Now let's begin…

Chapter 1: When I'm Gone, by Peter Parker

"_Have you ever loved someone so much you'd give an arm for her?_

_Not the expression, no literally, give an arm for her?_

_When they know they're your heart_

_And you know you are their armor _

_And you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her_

_But what happens when karma turns right around and bites you,_

_And everything you stand for turns on you despite you?_

_What happens when you become the main source of her pain?"_

--Eminem, "When I'm Gone"

_Superheroes never ask to get extraordinary powers. They sort of stumble upon them, if you will. Unlike some supervillains who get that way by intentionally trying to make themselves inhumanly powerful, we heroes have better things to do than living a life driven by power lust. That's what distinguishes us from them. The bad guys are pretty much bad guys most of the time, except if they act like good guys if it serves them. Good guys, by contrast, are generally good guys part time. We have careers, we have families. We have _lives_, thank you very much, and this puts us heroes at a distinct disadvantage. _

_Sometimes the line between our superhero activities and our personal lives becomes so blurred, we're afraid to do anything about it because that would not only reveal your identity to the villain but to the very loved one you try so hard to protect… _

"Don't you think it's a bit…_soon_?" I ask my aunt.

"Peter dear, it's been four years since Ben died. I can't just forget him, of course, but I have to move on. He would want us to be happy, don't you agree?"

"Yeah," I agree. Nothing's ever going to take his place, of course. Come to think of it, Uncle Ben would still be around but for me...

"I would like some companionship in my old age, and I clearly can't have you around all the time. You have to grow up and live a life of your own with that little girlfriend of yours."

"Pardon me, but how do you expect to find Mr. Right the Second Time Around at _your_—"

"Hush, Peter! I hear stories all the time about people in their seventies, eighties, finding true love and marrying. I think a sixty-one year old would be a comparative spring chicken!"

I smile. She always liked my smile. "Do these stories involve a true love named Anna Nicole Smith?"

May is only half-amused. "You make it sound like I'm a fragile, vulnerable old lady. You make it sound like I can't take care of myself."

"No, of _course_—"

"Why, when that dreadful mad scientist held me hostage at the bank last year, who got the first hit in? I _did_ tell you about that, didn't I? You were so scared you ran away."

The latter statement wasn't exactly true, but I keep up my poker face. I don't feel like going into the whole sordid superhero business. "Touché. But how do you expect to find your True Love? An ad in the personals?"

"Heavens, no!" May gestures at a laptop sitting on the table. "I saved up money from the piano lessons and got a very nice deal for this. I've been learning all about the internet and there's a website called senior-love-match-dot-com, and—"

"Good Lord!" I exclaim. "Aunt May, those could be _anyone_! I've heard stories about perverts coming on to young girls online and—"

"I don't see why perverts would come on to '_little old ladies_' typing 'knit 1, purl 1' on the knitting chat room. You shouldn't worry about me so much."

_But I do,_ I think inside. _I _do_, more than I could ever tell you. Those encounters with the Green Goblin and Doctor Octopus were quite enough, but if some other super-powered nutty-nut-bar went after you and…I could never forgive myself!_

I grumble inside, because I know she's right. She only _looks_ fragile. She came out of said encounter with the former villain with nothing more than the frights, and when the latter villain held her hostage last year during his bank robbery (he admitted to himself with the utmost chagrin) she _had_ got the first swing in. I know this, of course, because I had witnessed it myself.

Still…I'm worried. I _had_ heard stories, after all. And besides, lately I'm having a _lot_ more to worry about.

"I think we should start seeing other people." She gently pushes her flaming dark red hair out of her eyes.

"Why, Mary Jane?"

"Have you ever noticed that whenever I'm around, I end up being dangled off a bridge or tied to a pole by some super-powered nut job? By the way, in the _second_ instance, said nut job pinched my ass with his freaky metal arms. Now, I know why these sort of things keep happening to me. Now I know why I end up in places like a cab car dangling in a black web with cemen blocks dangling over me."

"So…you want to quit our relationship because continuing it would put you in danger? Is that it?" I ask. I'd revealed myself to her not so long ago. I thought she could handle the truth. I didn't think so before. I was right then.

"Not only that. That's the least of it. I don't want to deal with the secrets. The rumors. The dropped dates. The absences. The long nights wondering whether you're going to get killed. That whole mess with you, your hidden girlfriend, your wacko ex-best friend, and your freaky black suit. Watching you on TV getting ripped up by some muscle-bound, fanged freak dipped in black alien goo. Watching you on TV getting ripped up by a felon who can turn into sand. Watching you on TV getting ripped up by a fat mad scientist and his robot tentacles. Watching you on TV getting ripped up by not one, but _two_ goblin-suited, glider-gliding weirdoes—"

"I get the point—" I try to roll my eyes.

"I'm not finished! Did I say I was _finished_?" Mary Jane shouts at me, then continues with her list of What She Has To Put Up With. "Listening to you being called a criminal by the newspaper. Making excuses for you again and again. Face it, as long as I'm involved with you, there's always going to be Another Man between us. It'll be some bizarre love triangle between Peter, Mary Jane, and Spider-Man, and two of them are one and the same."

"But I _love_ you. I've _always_—" I plead. I'd get on my knees, if she didn't think it was degrading.

"Love just isn't _enough_, Peter. There has to be _commitment_, something you don't quite have the _hang_ of. I can't _deal_ with being the Third Wheel. So, I suggest you start seeing other people, 'cause I sure will."

I shake my head. Just another day in the life of Peter Parker, called Spider-Man.


	2. Unwell, by Otto

Reader like, huh? The Trickster aims to please, and begs your patience in dealing with the somewhat unusual story format...Read and review!

Chapter 2: Unwell, by Otto Octavius

"_All day, staring at the ceiling, making_

_Friends with shadows on my wall_

_All night, hearing voices telling me_

_That I should get some sleep,_

'_Cause tomorrow might be good for something…"_

Matchbox twenty, "Unwell"

_Some people think of life only in terms of black and white; right and wrong. I certainly like to think that I am old enough and intelligent enough to know better. It is indeed the rare instance in life that things are truly black and white, rather than some shade of gray._

_Even though I know all the things I have done in these recent years were wrong, sometimes I still think of myself as a victim. My hopes and dreams, my shot at changing the world, my _wife_—they have all perished, and I seem to not be able to assign blame where it's due. I keep looking for some explanation—any explanation, anyone to blame, besides the obvious one—they all are dead by my hand, or precisely, my arm. _

_I am an outcast in the city, looked upon as a freak, a modern-day Frankenstein, and it wasn't just corpses I was stealing for my experiments. One attempt at "going straight"—a high school teaching job in a nearby town—was all it took to convince me that no one would ever accept me as I am. Appearances are everything, because in this age of secret agent thriller television series set in real time, instant messaging, and accelerated internet, no one simply has the _time_ to get to know the real me. No one wants to look for Otto Octavius underneath the tough façade of Doctor Octopus._

_Unless…unless modern scientific technology, and my extraordinary aptitude with it, can help me…_

_I stare at the bracelet. I had acquired it a year ago from one of New York City's many scientific exhibits, with the help of a young girl who claimed to be my clone. Its sophisticated technology had enabled me to turn entirely invisible, allowing me to come the closest to defeating Spider-Man than I had for a long time. _

_Now, if I could figure out how to alter the holographic patterns to render only my arms invisible, then I could walk about the city as…normal. I could find a True Love and—well, I suppose that someday, I will have to tell her about my _Criminal Reputation_, but we can burn that bridge when we get to it._

I peer into the computer screen. The laptop's a little small for my taste, but I got a good bargain for it—a three-pincer discount, if you will.

"Good Lord," I mutter to myself while surfing. "That accursed arachnid is making more deals with Marvel for his own comic books detailing his adventures. _Ultimate Spider-_Man, indeed. Who is _that _man supposed to be? It _certainly_ isn't me. I only _wish_ I looked like that. And more movie deals, too—who exactly _is_ that guy playing me, anyway? _I've_ never heard of him. I'm beginning to agree with Jameson—that boy would do anything for fame and fortune."

I sigh. I hate to admit it, but I hate Spider-Man for his role in The Accident, you know the one—the one that turned me into a freak—but I know obsessing over him could bring the voices back, or bring back the madness, and where would that get me? It could only bode ill for me. If I am ever fated to turn straight, I had better stop thinking about the bug, because it only pisses me off and gets me thinking about tearing him limb from limb, and not only that, it gets me thinking about blowing up the city for taking the bug's side. Back to finding True Love._ Click._

Society is built on appearances. I understand. Humans are merely a slightly evolved animal, and like all animals, seek signs of good genetics while looking for a breeding partner. I wonder if the soul, the mind, _love_, are merely illusions caused by the firing of neurons. I think Rosie knew, and she certainly wasn't about to share that secret with the likes of me.

I enter my profile information on the dating website. I smile as I read the cartoon in the current _Reader's Digest_, depicting two dogs on a computer, one canine informing the other, "On the internet, no one knows you're a dog."

On the internet, no one knows you're an octopus.

I shake my head, and laugh. Just another day in the life of Dr. Otto Octavius, called Doctor Octopus.


	3. Where'd You Go, by Peter

Chapter 3: Where'd You Go, by Peter Parker

"_I just want you to know it's a little messed up_

_That I sit here waiting, no longer debating,_

_Tired of sitting and hating and making these excuses_

_For why you're not around, and feeling so useless_

_I guess one thing has been true all along_

_You don't know what you got till it's gone_

_I guess I've had it with you and your career _

_When you come back I won't be here."_

—Mike Shinoda and Fort Miner, "Where'd You Go"

_I know that with great power comes responsibility. I had to find that out the hard way. I also had to find out the hard way that with great power comes great hardships, too. My family, my loved ones can never know the pain I feel, never know the burden I feel when I take a beating from the next supervillain du jour trying to teleport the Statue of Liberty. Mary Jane could never know why I kept missing dates, kept missing parties, couldn't make an eight o'clock curtain (anal usher notwithstanding). I could never forgive myself if one of my—Spider-Man's countless enemies attacked her...wait, a couple of them already have. Five, exactly._

_Damn it! All this so-called deception is all for her own good, but the bitch was too selfish and pathologically needy to see that I have other things on my mind besides her! I didn't ask to get bitten by that radioactive spider on that field trip, and all I'm trying to do is deal, in the best way I can, with a situation that would drive most people nuts or turn them villainous, and if that means deceiving the one I love to do it, so be it. She can haul her skinny civilian butt back up to Forest Hills if she doesn't like it—!_

_I'm sorry, I don't mean to rant like this on the computer. I mean, it's just a blog and it's not really the thing I'm mad at. _

Okay, so Mary Jane just broke up with me. No big deal. Really. I have other things to worry about. For example, an electrically-powered supervillain who calls himself Electro. _Electro_, for Chrissakes. Very original. He compliments his villain name with green spandex trimmed with yellow and a yellow lightning-bolt mask. Nice. I could sell my own reality television show. I'll call it _Queer Eye for the Super Villain Guy. _

Electro is far more of a threat than he looks, unfortunately. This guy is a living battery, capable of controlling electricity down to, apparently, the electrical impulses that make up the body's nervous system. I saw him on TV news. The security cameras caught him giving the security guards seizures before springing the ATMs at Gold National Bank. The videos were posted straight up on YouTube, Yahoo!News, and the links posted by the Drudge Report.

My ever-loving boss, Jonah Jameson of the _Daily Bugle_, has put out today's headline: _Spider-Man and Electro: One and the Same!_ As if I would wear something like _that_ aforementioned green and _et cetera _outfit! I figure I might as well humor him, since my secret identity isn't public. Get a photo of Electro and doctor something up in Photoshop.

And to cap that off, Aunt May has been rushed to the hospital. She didn't want to burden me—so I find this out secondhand from her friend Anna Watson. I feel I have to miss Physics class to check on her, be there for her. Let Dr. Connors yell at me, and then he'll go play with his lizards. Those things are his babies. I'm starting to think the man might be half lizard himself.

Fate is smiling on me. I swing to Phoebus General Hospital, where Aunt May is staying. Supervillains be damned right now.

Please don't let me be too late. Please let May be okay. Please don't let her... I change into my civilian clothes and run to the receptionist. The words come out in one breath. "Hi my name's Peter Parker, I'm looking for my aunt, May Parker..."

She's in room 213, I find out. I run down the halls, and I think I scared a nurse out of half her life expectancy. "Aunt May!"

May shakes her head. "Oh, Peter, I _told_ Anna Watson to tell you not to come. You should be at your classes..."

"No," I say. "I had to come. I can always make up the classes."

She tries to wave me off. "It was _nothing_. A false alarm. Just a case of indigestion from the Italian restaurant. Anna overreacted—"

"Aunt May, just let the doctors tell you what's the matter, that's what they're here for. Just a couple of tests..."

"Peter, the tests cost _money_, and our health insurance doesn't even _cover_ emergency room visits. This is all I need—"

"Don't worry about that!" I know about the financial problems. "We'll get the money _somehow_!"

"_We'll get the money somehow" he said, with less than no clue where he was going to come up with that kind of cash! With any luck, I can get some pictures, and pictures mean money_, which we don't have enough of and the hospital charges a lot of. Jonah loves my pictures and pays good money, mostly because he needs them to accompany his editorials calling "me" a menace.

The doctor walks up, a good-natured Marcus Welby type. _As opposed to a sullen, sarcastic Gregory House type? _"The tests showed it was _not_ a heart attack, per se, but certainly one of the warning signs. She needs to rest, and she needs to lessen any stress she might have. We'd like to keep her overnight for observation, just to see how the medication takes."

"Do you know about how much that'll cost, Dr. Perry?"

"Around three hundred thirty a night. Peter, if there's money problems, there are agencies that will take care—"

"No, no, Dr. Perry, I can get the money..." _Oh yeah, Parker? Where?_

The only hope I have is getting some pictures of Spidey battling some super-powered idiot doing something wrong. _Or an advance...fat chance..._

The _Daily Bugle _is burning. _The first thing I see when I enter the Daily Bugle headquarters is, of course, Electro's happy, smiling face. _

"_Where's Jameson?_" Electro yells. "He's gone too far this time! If he thinks he can use _my name_ to sell his toilet rag newspaper, he's in for a serious shock!"

I duck outside to change and ready my digital camera. I may not like Jameson, but I don't want him fried extra crispy either. He signs my checks.

"Hey, Sparky!" I taunt him. "Why don't you go somewhere and cool off?"

"Spider-Man! You saved me the trouble of looking for you! You're horning in on all my good press! Now everyone will see that we're _not the same guy!_"

I aim my webs toward his face. Normally, this is a good idea. This time, all it takes is one of his lightning bolts and my webs are cooked. Splendid. He runs to Jameson's office.

I duck outside and run to the fire trucks. The generous FDNY chief informs me that the building's evacuated except for Electro and Jameson. He lets me borrow some insulated boots and gloves. I kick the window in, coming to the rescue of my ever-lovin' boss, who's muttering, "Not the same guy...but I wanted them to be..." I rush him out. "Come on, Jonah, gotta get you somewhere safe..."

Electro is furious. "Once I tap into the current into these cables, there's nothing left of you but toast! I'm gonna fry you like an egg—" He is then startled by a sudden revelation. "Hey, who turned off the juice?"

"Uh, that would be the New York fire department," I inform him. "First thing they always do is turn off the power to any building that's on fire." I roll my eyes at his sheer stupidity. "_Duh_."

"I don't care, I _still_ have enough power to—"

I'm too lost in my thoughts to listen to his standard super-baddie rant. _He's a generator. He can store the energy, but he can't produce it, he's gotta be charged up, so I can short him out. But how am I going to do that?_

_Fricking hell! You call yourself a science nerd, Parker!_

Shielding my face with my insulated gloves, I make a flying tackle towards him. I swing him right towards the fire trucks. Towards the fire _hoses_.

"Huh?" he yells. "What are you doing?"

"You know why you shouldn't drop your hair dryer in the bathtub?" I ask.

Idiot that he is, he knows what's coming. "No! No no no nonono—"

"Oh yes! Oh yes!" I cry, as he shorts out with one splash.

Now to Jameson...

"Come on, Mr. J. At least look at the pictures..."

"You just don't get it, do you Parker? I was the one who said Spider-Man and Electro were the same man! I printed it in the goddamn _headline_, fer crying out loud! If I print those I'll be a laughingstock!"

"Come on!" I plead. "I've got some pictures with you in them! In fact, it looks like you're the hero in them! Here, you're telling Electro off, and in this one, you must be talking them down and trying to get them to turn themselves in!"

He grabs the pictures. "Hmm. You know, you're right. _Bugle Editor defeats Electro! Sends Spider-Freak Packing! _I'll take them! But tell me, what do you need the money for all of a sudden?"

I shake my head. "I'll tell you later, Mr. Jameson. Right now, there's somewhere else I have to be."

I run to Phoebus General. May is resting peacefully, leisurely reading a magazine.

Then I hear the voice behind me. The voice is calling, "Is this May Parker's room? Is she all right?" It sounds familiar somehow...

I turn around. My nerves are jumping and my spidey-sense is tingling. _Who the hell are you?_

May seems glad to hear the voice. She points to the stocky, chestnut-haired man. He wears dark sunglasses, black slacks and a button-down shirt with a black tie. "Come in, Oliver! Peter, this is my new boyfriend, Oliver. Oliver, this is my nephew, Peter."

I mumble a quick hello and run off. I don't feel comfortable around Oliver. Not one bit.

Just another day in the life of Peter Parker, called Spider-Man.


	4. The Scientist, by Otto

Again, be patient with the format. Half the story, or every other chapter, is narrated by Peter Parker. The other half is told from Otto Octavius' point of view. Remember, there are three sides to this story: Peter's, Otto's, and the truth. After reading the first two sides, you can figure for yourself the third.

Happy reading (and hopefully, reviewing)!

Chapter 4: The Scientist, by Otto Octavius

"_I was just guessing at numbers and figures,_

_Pulling the puzzles apart._

_Questions of science, science and progress,_

_Could not speak as loud as my heart._

_Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me,_

_Oh, and I rush to the start..."_

Coldplay, "The Scientist"

_I suppose this is how all people feel when going on their first blind date. What will she look like? How will she act? How much wit and humor—or lack thereof—does she have? How old-fashioned will she be? Will she expect me to pick up the check? And most importantly, what will she think of me? _

_I've never done this before. Rosie and I met on the college steps and in rapid succession, we became "steady", engaged, and married. As the young people like to put it, we "clicked". Will the lady I meet tonight click with me? Will love last beyond that period when the brain floods with oxytocin, resulting in that "love at first sight" feeling? If it does, will she accept it if I tell her? Or must I forever rely on technology to keep my deformity secret? Will I live a lie, and won't it be selfish to do so, all for the chance at companionship and the chance to pass my DNA along? My needs are still insistent; some say a human is a gene's way of producing another gene. The idealist in me certainly hopes love is more than that. _

I pulled on my best white Armani suit, a gift from my old employer. I pulled on my tie, my black trenchcoat. I adjusted the bracelet, my tentacles fading from view. I fidgeted with the buttons, walked to the city limits, hailed a cab. I pulled out the printouts from her email messages and a printout from MapQuest concerning the Italian restaurant where we would meet. Frankie's, I believe, is renowned among teenage prom-goers and newlyweds for its romantic reputation. I can do romantic, I thought.

According to the message, she would be at the designated table, holding a red rose. The rose was my idea. A psychologist might suggest I haven't gotten over Rosie yet, and I suppose I never quite will.

I was escorted to my table. It came as somewhat of a shock—she was quite a bit older than I am. And she looked so familiar...

_I needed to get the police off my heels after I stole the money for my experiment...I took a hostage, an old lady who had already lived out most of her life span...the bug followed me up the wall...I dropped her, and she hooked her umbrella on a statue near the balcony...and smacked me upside the face with it when I recaptured her..._

I shook the memory out of my head. Doctor Octopus doesn't exist now, not here. He would not intrude on my romantic night out.

"So, you're my date." She offered her hand. "I'm May."

I shook the profferred hand and offered a lie. "I'm Oliver." I handed her a bouquet of deep red roses and promptly got to the business in question. "_'O, my love is like a red, red rose/ That's newly sprung in June. / O my love is like a melody/ That's sweetly played in tune.'_"

She blushed at the Robert Burns and giggled like a schoolgirl. "You like poetry, huh?"

"A little bit." I then offered her Lord Byron. "_'She walks in beauty, like the night / Of cloudless climes and starry skies; / And all that's best of dark and bright / Meet in her aspect and her eyes...'_"

"Oh, Oliver, you're too much." She smiled. The waiter walked over with the menu.

"What shall we order tonight, my lady?" I said. "I'm in the mood for lobster."

She ordered the veal parmigiana. We made small talk about celebrities, the weather, and television shows. "I'm glad that Paris Hilton is in prison," she said. "For too long, the wealthy practically get away with murder."

I chuckled at that. "Where she is, is practically day camp next to somewhere like Ryker's or Ravencroft. Why, I'd bet her chiefest complaint is that the cable TV went down."

"So, Oliver, what do you do?"

"I'm a scientist. I used to work in a large research facility." I mixed truth with the lies. Life is, after all, mostly gray.

She studied my eyes and frowned. I knew what she would say. "You look kind of familiar. I think I met you once."

Again, I mixed lies with the truth. "You're the one he took hostage last year. I saw it all on the news. Please, you mustn't judge me on what my brother Otto does."

She seemed content with the lie. She bit into her veal, and she insisted that she pay for her half. After haggling for a while and persisting that I pick up the tab, I obliged.

But now, my cell phone rings. "May?" I ask.

"No, this is Anna Watson, her friend. You must hurry to Phoebus General Hospital, she's had some kind of heart problem..."

I think briefly of using the tentacles, but reconsider. I hail a cab, and rush into the hall toward room 213. A frowning young man is conversing with the doctor. He turns to me. "Aunt May, who is this?"

The voice is so familiar...

Just another day in the life of Otto Octavius, formerly Doctor Octopus...


	5. You're All I Have, by Peter

To Song With No Soul: Over your last few reviews, you have made many excellent points that most unfortunately cannot be covered in this small space. As I make a policy of responding to _all_ my reviewers and you presently do not have an account, please private-message me with an email address and I would be pleased to answer your many questions.

To all: Thanks for reviewing, and happy reading!

Chapter 5: You're All I Have, by Peter Parker

"_There is a darkness deep in you,_

_A frightening magic I cling to."_

—Snow Patrol, "You're All I Have"

_Well, this is really fricking nice. After all my efforts into protecting my loved ones, after looking out the front door for enemies after Aunt May, it turns out that the archenemy snuck into the back door!_

_I'm logging off now. I have other things to deal with at this moment..._

I pace around my rathole apartment while my landlord, Ditkovitch, calls for his rent. I just _know_ Doc Ock's dating Aunt May. My spidey sense was having kittens around "Oliver" in the hospital and my spidey sense is never wrong in picking out my archenemies.

In the meantime, what am I supposed to do about it? Should I tell her? What if he told her already and she doesn't care? An unlikely scenario given past events but a possible one. She might have forgiven him. I once forgave Sandman of far worse.

Besides, what does Octavius see in her? May is loving, generous, and sweet, but she's of a certain age, she has health and financial problems, and oh yeah, last year he took her hostage and dangled her off the side of a building, at which point she hit him with her umbrella. Yes, this might be the start of a beautiful relationship.

My police scanner radio is buzzing. It's hero time, literally.

I swing down to the source of the transmission, the Diamond Center, famous for their television commercials featuring the absurdly costumed owner extolling his wares. Unfortunately, the owner isn't the absurdly costumed figure waiting for me, suitcase of jewelry in her hand.

She leaps at me, knocking me down. She's wearing a black suit trimmed with white fur and strategically unzipped to show her assets to her best advantage, and a headband with black cat ears. I briefly look behind her to see if she's wearing a tail as well. Fortunately, she's not. She's tall, platinum blonde, and speaking as an average heterosexual man, gorgeous. Thing is, I've never had a supervillainess archenemy before. I throw her off her, but she leaps toward me again, kicking me in the gut. The pain lets me know she has superpowers of her own.

She follows that up with a jab to the nose and a punch to the jaw. I dodge her next blows, but she attempts to tie me with her grappling ropes. I pull the ropes off, but that's all the time she needs to extend laser claws from her gloves. She slashes at me, but I duck and weave before those things turn me into mincemeat pie.

She comes at me again, and my spidey-sense spurs me to leap out of the way. But she was just feinting; she is now running away, taking the diamonds with her. I step towards her but—and this might be too personally embarrassing—a noose catches my foot, dangling me in the air. By the time I free myself, she's already halfway down the street. I run after her, pulling her in with a well-placed web-lasso. She drops the suitcase.

"Well, you caught me," she smiles and purrs. "I've been a very bad girl." Then she struggles to pull her free hand out of the lasso, pull up my mask.

I want to pull away from her. The last thing I want is yet another supervillain discovering my secret identity. I want to pull away, but I don't. Actually, I don't really want to. She grabs my head and pushes it toward hers, and kisses me. I like it, but I won't admit that to her. She lets go, and before I can think again, she's gone. So are the diamonds. I'm going to miss those commercials.

What do you want from me? I'm a college-age heterosexual male and my steady girlfriend just broke up with me. It looks like I'm on the rebound.

Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Until the Black Cat turns up again, all I can do is swing home and think about other pressing issues. By now, I think I know what to do about the Oliver question. I need to pay Aunt May a visit and try to pry some information out of her.

I run up to her house, stuffing my mask into my pocket. It'll be enough of a shock to find out her boyfriend's a supervillain. With her health problems, telling her that her nephew is a superhero could damn well give her a heart attack.

I sit down on the couch and pick up the Daily Bugle, waiting for Aunt May to get home from bunco at Mrs. Watson's house. "_A Match Made in Hell_", the headline proclaims. "_Spider-Crook and Villainess Black Cat Rob Diamond Center_," I read further. The more I read the _Daily Bugle_, the more I think Spider-Man should sue J. Jonah Jameson for libel. Unfortunately, after calling an attorney I looked up in the phone book, Matthew Murdock, for advice, I found out that as long as my identity remains secret, I haven't a legal leg to stand on in court. Later, I found out that he'd charged me seventy-five dollars just for the phone call.

I pick the paper back up and read some more. _"Just a few months ago, Felicia Hardy, daughter of infamous serial killer Walter 'The Slasher' Hardy, was merely Inmate 129874 at Chowchilla women's prison in southern California, serving a sentence of five to eight years for burglary and aggravated assault and battery. But Felicia organized a daring prison break and succeeded in gaining freedom..." _...blah blah blah... _"The Scriptures say the sins of the father are to be passed to the children, and it certainly seems true in this case. Whether Miss Hardy will follow in her father's murderous footsteps is yet to be determined, but more than likely while she remains under the influence of the criminal Spider-Man." _

Disgusted, I slap the paper down on the table, next to the stack of mail. A letter sits face up next to the stack. Taking care not to disturb the other papers, I peer at the letter. I'd hate for her new apartment to be foreclosed again. I swore long ago to take care of her.

It was a letter from an attorney. Two weeks ago, Aunt May and I had attended the funeral of her brother, Nathan. Nathan had made her the executor of his will and he had also left her a hefty chunk of his property, it seemed. Carefully settling the letter down, I put on my best tie and prepare to go to the law offices of Lionel Granger.

I shake hands with the attorney. "I'm Peter Parker," I explain. "I'm representing my aunt, May Parker, who is ill in the hospital. Are we ready for business?"

"Since your aunt is the only living beneficiary of the will," Granger says, "I don't think we have any other visitors. Please sit down."

I take the nearest chair, and ask some general questions about what being the executor of a will entails. The lawyer looks over the will. "It seems that your aunt's brother is a very wealthy man," he informs me. I sigh inwardly. I won't have to worry so much about taking care of her, at least until the money runs out. I can finally get my rent on time. The lawyer puts on his glasses and starts reading. "_I, Dr. Nathan Reilly, being of sound mind..._" blah blah blah...

Until my spidey-sense jolt, and my hands shake as he reads: "_My favorite sister May Reilly Parker shall also inherit the resources of my company, Rosslyn Energy Alternatives, including Rosslyn Island, Canada, and all property therein, including the commercial nuclear reactor, uranium mines, tritium deposits, and all related equipment..."_

My stomach drops to the level of my shoes. "Can you tell me about Rosslyn Energy?"

"Nathan Reilly was a gifted scientist and entrepreneur. He's the sole owner of Rosslyn Energy Alternatives. The property May would inherit is a small island off the eastern Canada coast containing a full-scale nuclear reactor. Rosslyn Island also has valuable deposits of uranium and hydrogen, most of it the rare tritium isotope."

"And May would get it all? Her relatives would get it all? There's me, and she might be dating again; my uncle died about three years ago."

"Well, sure."

Suddenly, the stakes are raised. I feel like I'm about to faint. Does he know about this? Has May told him? I can tell you one thing, Dr. Otto Octavius shouldn't be let _near_ a hundred miles of anything like Rosslyn Island.

Just another day in the life of Peter Parker, called Spider-Man.


	6. From Yesterday, by Otto

Chapter 6: From Yesterday, by Otto Octavius

"_On a mountain he sits,_

_Not of gold but of shit,_

_Through the blood he cannot_

_See the lives that he took..._

_From yesterday, it's coming!_

_From yesterday, the fear!_

_From yesterday, it calls him,_

_But he doesn't want to read the message yet!"_

30 Seconds to Mars, "From Yesterday"

_I can't get over that nagging feeling in my mind. I have discovered that there are large chunks of time missing from my memory, my psyche's efforts to shield the scientist I once was and still am from the actions of the supervillain I became after The Accident. There was a time when I could not remember robbing banks, or rebuilding the nuclear fusion experiment, or battles held on elevated trains. I only knew what Doctor Octopus did from what I read in the papers. His mind was shielded from mine; my life was increasingly compartmentalized, separate from itself until the recent efforts to rehabilitate my life. _

_When I realized that I _was_ him, and he _was_ me. Some experts concluded that my mind had been taken over by the artificial intelligence of my arms, but I was the one who went along. A suggestion is not coercion, although I was afraid that if I resisted, they would destroy me. They will not; we are too interdependent. Perhaps I listened to them because I was desperate to rehabilitate my dream at any price._

_With the changes I made in the invisibility bracelet, their voices are mute. They cannot speak to me, cannot seduce me into choices I'll regret. But it won't last. After three years, my four metal arms have become as natural to me as my two human arms, and hearing their whispering, bio-computer-generated voices twenty-four-seven is just a way of life. I have already repaired the bracelet twice; eventually my body will reject it as it might a foreign organ or a virus. I hope that moment will not happen in front of May._

The cheery voice of the laptop exclaims, "You've got mail!" I race towards the computer, opening the email program. May's letter is a bright spot among the spam.

"_My dearest Oliver,_

_I do hope all is well with you. This letter is to let you know that I have accepted your offer of a second date. After dinner, I propose that you should visit my apartment in Queens, where you will meet my only living relative, my nephew Peter. He is like a son to me; my husband Ben and I raised him after his parents, Ben's brother and sister-in-law, died while abroad. I think you would love him; he is an excellent student and a scientific genius. I believe for his first year at Empire State University, he wrote a paper on nuclear fusion on your brother, Otto. It really is too bad about how he turned out, isn't it?_

_My older brother Nathan died two weeks before our first date. It was going to his funeral as well as the death of my beloved Ben that reminded me of the finiteness of life and inspired me to start dating. According to Peter, who met with Nathan's attorney, I have been willed his property, including an entire island off the eastern Canadian coast, just a short ride by air or boat. Peter says it has beautiful scenery and forests, and the perfect weather. It would be the perfect place for a picnic—or maybe an eventual wedding!_

_Best regards, May_

Octopus intrudes in my life again, pulling out another memory. Rosie is in this memory, as is a young student, the best friend of my employer, whom he "got through high school science", and a student of my former friend and colleague, Dr. Curtis Connors.

_...I had given him a tour of my facility, shown him the machinery intended to control the tremendous energy of fused hydrogen atoms. "So are you sure you can stabilize the fusion reaction?" he asks. I laugh at the absurdity. "Rosie," I exclaim to my wife, "our new friend thinks I'm going to blow up the city!" She rushes to my defense. "Don't worry Peter. Otto knows what he's doing." ...Of course I did... "I certainly know the consequences of the slightest miscalculation." The subject was quickly brought to an end..._

I knew her nephew...I might still know him...Another memory floats to the surface of my consciousness.

_...The bug runs up to me in a fit of desperation and pulls off the mask of his costume... "Peter Parker," I recognize. "I remember you...brilliant but lazy."..._

I could not face May with what I know now. The nephew would never accept me as his uncle. I shake my head. On tonight's date, I must break up with her. I could lie and tell her I didn't really love her. I could lie by omission and say that I thought I was ready but I wasn't. I could give her a half-truth and say it wasn't her, it was me. I could not tell her the full truth, which was that her nephew is really a masked vigilante called Spider-Man and that Dr. Otto Octavius isn't really my brother.

Or I could continue the relationship and depend on the knowledge that Peter is a common male name and Parker is a very common surname. I could depend on the chance that the nephew of which May speaks and the student of my memories could be completely different.

I open the message's attachment and gasp. Shortly after I had received my doctorate in nuclear physics, I had applied to work at Rosslyn Energy Alternatives, accepted by its owner, Dr. Nathan Reilly, before the American government tapped me to oversee their nuclear plants. It was the Cold War, after all.

May had inherited the entirety of Rosslyn. Nathan Reilly was her brother. The island of May's letter was none other than the famous Rosslyn Island, the Rosslyn lsland of North America's largest nuclear reactor conveniently located near a large deposit of uranium and an estimated 10 of the worldwide total of 25 pounds of tritium isotope.

If May and I were to marry, I would get it all.

The decision is made for me. The tide is turned.

Just another day in the life of Otto Octavius, formerly Doctor Octopus.


	7. Kiss and Control, by Peter

To Song With No Soul: Chapter 5 review: Why would Murdock accept payments in fish? Can't he tell that from money? (laughs) Anyway, pm-ing entails going to my profile (easily accessed from the latest chapter I hand out) and clicking the Private Message link, near the top, and leaving an email so I can reply. Chapter 6 review: You'd think you'd learn from Spider-Man 2 that tritium draws Otto like a magnet draws paperclips. I mean regular paperclips, not the one bouncing around and annoying me while writing fanfics on Microsoft Word. Not one of Gates' better ideas. Happy reading!

Chapter 7: Kiss and Control, by Peter Parker

"_Above us, glowing, exploding,_

_Our dreams burst forth in light and death!_

_Hold me and tell me we'll burn like stars!_

_We'll burn as we fall!_

_Watch as city lights transform us..."_

AFI, "Kiss and Control"

_I'm starting to miss the relaxing, sublime days not too long ago when I divided my time between college, Aunt May, Mary Jane, work, the Daily Bugle, and costumed crime-fighting. _

_Ever since Black Cat entered my life, bad luck has followed me everywhere I go and back. I'm almost flunking Psychology and Biology, Jameson has rejected all my pictures, I've been informed by my boss at Starbucks that I'm "walking a thin line," and my Aunt May is dating my mad nuclear physicist archenemy Doc Ock at exactly the same time she inherits a uranium mine. I've been spending most of my time blogging and crime-fighting to avoid dealing with the above problems. _

_I'm starting to think my new girlfriend has the power to cause bad luck. Only thing is, I'm getting the heaviest share of misfortune, I'm sure. _

_Don't worry, all I have to do is what they taught me in high school Algebra. I'll just break my big problem down into smaller problems. _

_I'll warn Aunt May that something like Rosslyn Island isn't the sort of thing that should be entrusted to someone like her boyfriend. She listens to me. _

_I'll placate Jameson by sending him more pictures. Spider-Man is his bread and butter. He'll come around eventually. Without me, all he'll have to write is stories about cheerleaders being kidnapped by space aliens, and then where would his paper be?_

_As for having the time to do my homework, I'll quit blogging. _

_I'm just kidding! About the blogging, I mean. I _am_ going to talk to Aunt May and Jameson._

"Is now a good time, Betty?" I ask the receptionist of the _Daily Bugle _headquarters.

Betty shakes her head. "Pete, you should know that with Jonah, there's _never_ a good time."

I laugh and make my way to Jameson's office.

"If you don't have pictures of Spider-Man robbing a bank, I don't want to talk to you, " the boss growls.

"I have the next best thing," I offer. "I shot these pictures of Spider-Man and that burglar, Black Cat, making out."

He's definitely interested. "Nice. Very nice."

"One more thing," I say. I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "May I have an advance?"

"What do I look like? Santa Claus?" he roars. "I run a paper here, not a charity! Whatever happened to the American work ethic? You get me a picture of Black Cat in her lingerie and I'll think about thinking about it!"

I exit the office in a hurry. At least I have the picture money. Felicia won't like the idea of me taking pictures of our relationship, but I have to pay the bills.

I pull off my civilian clothes to reveal my costume. Wearing my costume under everything isn't such a good idea in the summertime. Unusually warm for New York, whether it's just an aberration or global warming. I'm starting to smell worse than rank—after a hard battle, I'm usually just plain offensive.

"Black Cat," I greet as I see her.

"Spider-Man," she responds.

Our arms intertwine, and I no longer care about her Criminal Reputation or my (undeserved) own. "Are you still robbing jewelry stores?"

"Nah. I broke into a museum last night. Stole a gold cat statue. The card said it was a sacred temple image of the Egyptian goddess Bastet. Must not have been that precious to the goddess if she didn't come down to defend it."

I laugh. "Do you want to show me?"

"Fat chance, Spideroso," she says. "You'll make me put it back."

"Really, haven't you ever thought of going straight? Using your powers for good instead of evil? Someone very wise once told me that with great power comes great responsibility."

"Yeah, you big spider-powered Boy Scout, but what's in it for me?"

"You know damn well what's in it for you."

"Well, for _you_ I'll do almost anything. Almost."

"Your father doesn't have to be your destiny."

Suddenly she turns around. So do I, not letting go of her. _Let them stare_, I think, until I see who stands there, frozen in her tracks.

"Spidey?" Mary Jane asks, green eyes wide.

"Who's that? Does she know you?" Felicia demands.

"Not anymore," I answer. _Does Mary Jane still love me?_

"So what are you worried about?" she snaps.

"Nothing." Until I hear Mary Jane screams in pain half a block later.

"What's wrong?" I run to the scene.

"I got my high heel caught in the grate," Mary Jane explains, "and oww, I think my leg's broke."

She thinks right. Her right leg sticks out at an odd angle. "I'll get you help, miss," I offer. I call 911, setting her leg straight and binding it in a web cocoon.

Meanwhile, Felicia just smirks and walks away. "Some bad luck you just had."

I shake my head and decide to head to Aunt May's to take care of the Oliver problem. I retrieve my civilian clothes, I button my shirt over my costume, tuck my mask inside my pocket.

The door to the apartment is ajar. Smelling the peanut butter cookies, I let myself in. I stop in my tracks and my spidey-sense is rattling around like a walnut in a cookie jar.

My archenemy is kneeling in front of my aunt and pulling out a diamond ring from his coat pocket. "May Parker," he says, "will you make today the happiest day of my life? Will you marry me?"

She takes his hand, helping him up. "Of course I will, Oliver! You knew I would!"

I run out of the apartment apparently undetected, make my way towards the rosebushes, and start puking.

Just another day in the life of Peter Parker, called Spider-Man.


	8. Follow You Into the Dark, by Otto

To All Reviewers: The Trickster sends her apologies for her failure to reply to reviews and send out her next chapter; you may blame my computer. Replies for chapter 7 are coming shortly. Happy reading!

Chapter 8: Follow You Into the Dark, by Otto Octavius

"_If Heaven and Hell decide_

_That they both are satisfied_

_And illuminate the "no"s on their vacancy signs_

_If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks_

_Then I'll follow you into the dark."_

Death Cab for Cutie, "Follow You Into the Dark"

_The die is cast. I have proposed to May, offering her Rosie's ring. She has accepted. _

_Just one problem. If Spider-Man _is_ her nephew under his costume, I need to keep him as unaware of the truth about the wedding plans as I can. Unfortunately, the kid is as tied to May's apron strings as a boy can be. I would have to convince May that severing ties from her insolent nephew would actually be _good_ for his state of mind. I have to convince her that disinviting him to the wedding would be good for us as well. _

"Where shall the wedding be?" I ask May. "Perhaps on that beautiful island you wrote to me about?"

"Of course, that would be the perfect location," she says. "Out of the way, nice weather, scenic."

"It should be a very small affair," I tell her. "Maybe we should even elope. There would be an aura of danger, of secrecy..."

"I don't know about that," May demurrs. "I think I should invite Peter, if no one else. He's been a son to me. I wouldn't want to go forth with this without his permission."

I shake my head. "I don't think he approves."

"How could he not, Oliver? You're a good man. Peter knows how happy we are with each other. He knows I'm in love."

"Well, he's been the man in your house since your first husband died. Maybe he just wants to protect you," I suggest. "Just explain that to him. Over time, he'll come around. He _does_ obviously love you, and he'll want to see you happy."

"Absolutely. I have to tell Peter that we all loved Ben, but I need to live my life and he would want me to move on. He's a grown man, Oliver. It's well nigh time he separates from me and makes his own life. But Oliver, he's so _fragile_. I still worry about him."

"He was a son to you. It's perfectly natural for a human mother to feel protective of her offspring long after they need protection. But I do think that he needs to stop shadowing and protecting _you_. Perhaps he's fragile exactly _because_ you worry about him so much, he sees himself as a weakling. He seems tougher than you think. When he goes out to deal with the real world, he'll actually blossom into the splendid young man you always thought he would be."

"You know, Oliver, I never thought of it that way before. Maybe I _am_ too emotionally attached to him, especially since Ben was murdered. I don't know how I could have managed at Flint Marko's trial without him by my side."

"You're also tougher than you think, May," I tell her. "But you'll have me when you need to. The mother raises her children, then she encourages them to fly out of the nest. It's the natural order of things."

"I know, Oliver. I have to tell Peter that I'll be fine without him. He'll understand. But I'd still like him to be in our wedding. He will be a witness to our vows, and it will make him understand that I don't need him to protect and take care of me anymore."

This entire sordid business is going to be a little harder than I thought. I make my exit to Pier 56, where I make last-minute repairs to the invisibility bracelet. I then go to a nearby tuxedo shop, closed for the night, to pick up a jacket and tie on a "three-pincer discount", and a computer shop for replacement components for the bracelet, paying the same way.

Just another day in the life of Otto Octavius, formerly Doctor Octopus.


	9. Sober, by Peter

Chapter 9: Sober, by Peter Parker

"_I am just a witless liar,_

_I am just an imbecile._

_I will only complicate you,_

_Trust in me and fall as well."_

Tool, "Sober"

_I've made a few gaffes back in the day, sure. I still do, because there's only ever been one absolutely perfect Person in existence, and He hasn't been around in two thousand years. I'm known in the superhero circles as a guy who can go from failure to spectacular failure with style and aplomb. _

_However, I believe most people make their big mistakes not in their workplaces, but in their personal lives. How else can you explain the fifty percent divorce rate and the existence of Jerry, Maury, Judge Judy, and emo? Everyone's victimized and betrayed by someone they trust at least once in their lives. Nobody gets away unscathed in this arena. So, I promised myself early on I'd follow my instincts instead of my heart. It isn't easy advice to follow. In fact, I hardly follow it myself._

_Here's what I mean. Most of us become infatuated with certain people over the course of our lives. It's normal. That infatuation, in some cases, leads to marriage and the perpetuation of the human race, and more often in modern times, only the perpetuation of the human race. Once in a while, the infatuation works out and leads to a beautiful relationship, a sense of filial love and commitment taking over after a few months. Much of the time though, it doesn't. Infatuation is temporary, based on nothing more than chemical reactions in the brain. Unfortunately, that kind of attraction makes us do a lot of shit we would not ordinarily do. The solution to toxic people is simply to divert yourself away from them. It's difficult and you learn it the hard way. _

I put on the tuxedo, carefully knotting the bowtie in front of the bathroom mirror. Aunt May, sitting on her apartment bed, is already in her pearl-colored dress, folds falling below the knee. "Thank you for inviting me to your wedding," I tell her. "I was afraid you were going to elope. Nothing would please me more than seeing you happy and in love."

"Oliver wanted to elope," May tells me, chuckling. "He wanted to keep it our little secret. From who, heaven knows."

"Maybe that's not the only secret he wants to keep." I twist a white carnation into a black buttonhole.

"Whatever do you mean, Peter?" She stops laughing.

"I—don't think Oliver is the right man for you." There, it's out. "You know I only want what's best for you, and I fear that if you marry Oliver, things are going to go downhill fast."

May archly replies, "Excuse me, Peter, I am sixty-two years old. I have lived through the end of a world war, the beginning and end of a cold war, the murder of your parents by terrorists in a foreign land, raising a child, the murder of my husband, and two supervillain attacks. I'm far from senile. I know what's best for me."

"So you think Oliver's your Mr. Right the Second Time Around?"

May sighs her exasperation. "If I didn't think he was, I wouldn't be marrying him."

"Do you think you should get to know each other a little longer? I don't think two weeks of dating is enough for a lifetime of commitment."

"Not for a man _your_ age, Peter. When you're as old as I am, time is of the essence. When you see your contemporaries die, when you see loved ones taken before their time, you get a sense of your own mortality."

"But this Oliver—"

"I understand you're not used to this, but you will have to accept him. The subject is _closed_."

It is not a good idea to further push my Aunt May after she says the subject of conversation is closed. I move to another topic. "Do you mind if I bring a guest to the wedding?"

"Mary Jane?" May beams, adjusting the circlet of white roses on her pale silver hair. "Lovely girl. You don't know how long Anna Watson and I had been trying to set you two up."

"No, Aunt May," I tell her. "We broke it off. I have a new girlfriend. Her name's Felicia."

"We're getting married at my Rosslyn Island in southeastern Canada," she informs me. "Oliver and I have hired a private helicopter, which will pick us all up at the address mentioned at the bottom of the invitation."

I flip out my cell and ask Felicia for tonight's new meeting spot. Who knew I would be doing this? 

"Felicia, I have to talk to you about our relationship." I grasp her hands. By now, I'd changed into my costume.

"Are you breaking up with me?" she pouts, and I remember Luke Wilson's unpleasant fate in _My Super Ex-Girlfriend_.

"No! No, no, no! Of course not! Not at all! I just wanted to tell you that we're in love, and I can't bear to have any secrets to come between us. I want to share the most important part of my life with you."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm waiting."

I pull my mask off, revealing my real face. "My real name is Peter Benjamin Parker. I got my powers when I got bit from a radioactive spider on a high school field trip. Right now, I'm a science major at Empire State University."

"I thought you'd—look different."

_How? More like a hero? Like Clark Kent?_

"I told you this because I'm about to invite you as a guest at my aunt's wedding. She raised me, you know."

Great. Felicia seems utterly bored. She just found out that her glamorous superhero she idolized was just a regular Joe Blow college student who wants to go to his elderly aunt's wedding.

"The thing is, I need a really big favor out of you. I just found out my mad scientist archenemy is courting my aunt."

"Doctor Octopus?" She perks up.

"Yeah. Worse, my aunt just inherited her very own nuclear reactor and uranium mine. That's why he's rushing her to elope. We have to crash the wedding. Just wear a pastel-shaded dress and meet me at the address on this card. I'll come up with a plan."

"Sure." The corner of her smile twitches a bit. She runs off, yelling "And Spidey, one more thing—put your mask back on!"

Just another day in the life of Peter Parker, called Spider-Man.


	10. Let Me Go, by Otto

To Song With No Soul: Look in your email inbox for my review replies shortly.

To all readers: Read and review!

Chapter 10: Let Me Go, by Otto Octavius

"_You love me, but you don't know who I am_

_I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand_

_You love me, but you don't know who I am_

_So let me go, just let me go."_

3 Doors Down, "Let Me Go"

_Rosslyn Island is exquisite from where I sit from the private helicopter. Lush greenscape and forests appear to cover the island, making it an emerald floating in the Atlantic._

_It isn't until we land that I would get a closer look at the real treasure that could soon be at least half mine. May wants the emerald, but my appetite is larger: I want the sun._

_The power of the sun, again in the palm of my hand. This experience will be priceless._

_That is, if Peter doesn't manage to ruin the whole thing. _

I fiddle with the hem of my trenchcoat, knowing full well that my tentacles are starting to reject the holographic systems that hold them in thrall. I anxiously perform percussive maintenance on the blasted bracelet.

May looks at me, fiddling with her lace. "Oliver, are you okay?"

"I'm just fine. I'm slapping at these blasted mosquitoes."

"It is unusually hot for June, isn't it?" May fans herself with a magazine. "Must be the global warming thing that man Al Gore made a movie about."

I take the magazine from her and start fanning her myself. "Al Gore is mistaken. He is a politician, not a scientist. Climate changes come in cycles. It gets warmer, it gets hot, it cools down, there's an ice age, it gets warmer again. Why, did you know Vikings were farming and grazing animals on Greenland far before Columbus set sail?"

"Thank you, Oliver," she says as I fan her. Meanwhile, her impertinent boy is in the back seat, scratching at the seat of his tuxedo. He has a tic in his forehead right now that jumps whenever May speaks to me. It is high time, I think, for him to cut his apron strings.

The platinum blonde next to him was introduced to me as his girlfriend, Felicia. She wears a strapless lavender dress. I wonder whether I should feel relieved. The Spider-Man of my blurred memories had a redhaired girlfriend named Mary Jane.

"You know, if you look out your window right now, Peter, you can see Rosslyn Island," May says.

Peter and Felicia oblige, peering out the window. "Wow," Felicia sighs. "It's beautiful."

"Hard to believe it's all ours, isn't it?" I say. "Someday, it will be all yours. May wishes it to remain in the family."

_Actually, the kid has a chance worse than a snowball living in a microwave of inheriting the Rosslyn facilities._

"So what's on this island?" Felicia says. "A summer cabin—with a sauna or a jacuzzi in the back? Just think, anytime you wanted to, you can go on your island and go boating around it in the ocean."

"What kind of boating?" Peter asks, smirking. "Canoeing or powerboating?"

"Maybe both, or we could windsurf or go waterskiing, or jetskiing. Or just swim around in the ocean and fish. Some summer fun! It must be really cool to own your own island, huh Peter?" Felicia asks.

I pull my cell out of my pocket to make sure the minister has arrived on time. He's there and quite willing to perform a quick wedding for a couple who have only known each other two weeks. He's used to this, apparently: he comes from Las Vegas.

_Very cool_, I smile. _Very cool indeed, Miss Felicia. _

Just another day in the life of Otto Octavius, called Doctor Octopus.


	11. Breath, by Peter

Only two more chapters left in this soon-to-be-classic remake of a classic. Happy reading!

Chapter 11: Breath, by Peter Parker

"_I see nothing in your eyes_

_And the more I see the less I like._

_Is it over yet, in my head?_

_I know nothing of your kind,_

_And I won't reveal your evil mind._

_Is it over yet, I can't win."_

Breaking Benjamin, "Breath"

_What society needs is a twelve-step program for infatuated persons. I'll call it Partners of Toxic People Anonymous. This organization would supply members with wise advisors, like Alcoholics Anonymous sponsors, when they are tempted to to associate with those who would harm us but look so hot and sound so charming doing it. If you can get someone to come over and talk you out of making that phone call, sending that email, scheduling that date with a dangerous person, that would be a great idea. _

_If the fruit tastes good but you bleed after eating it, you'll just have to dine elsewhere or be drained all the time. You have to see people as they are, not as you want them to be. If they're truly evil, callous, and cruel, if they're a chronically selfish person, you aren't going to change them, no matter how hard you try._

_Too bad I learned that too late. Too bad I didn't follow the advice I gave to my aunt. Too bad I'm not listening to my spidey-sense, screaming louder than a crowd of thirteen-year-olds at a Kelly Clarkson concert. _

And finally, we reach the culmination of my story, sitting in uncomfortable silence with my wedding-gowned aunt nervously fidgeting with the lace on her sleeve, my future uncle lounging on the helicopter seat adjusting a trenchcoat over an off-white double-breasted suit, and my girlfriend in her lavender strapless dress running her fingers through platimum blonde hair.

The silence is broken by Aunt May. "If you look out your window right now, Peter, you can see Rosslyn Island."

Felicia and I oblige. "Wow," she says. "It's beautiful."

"Hard to believe it's all mine," Otto—I mean _Oliver_, of course, ha ha—tells me. "Someday it might be yours. May wishes it to remain in the family."

"So what's on this island?" Felicia asks. "A summer cabin with a sauna in the back? Just think, anytime you wanted to, you could go to the ocean and swim or boat." Felicia starts to rhapsodize on the myriad pleasures of owning your own family island.

"I wouldn't swim if I were you," I whisper to Felicia. Octavius is chatting away on his cell phone. "Or at least do it on the other side of the nuclear plants and the uranium mines. And fishing isn't a good idea either—I wouldn't want to know what three-eyed fish taste like."

Octavius snaps his phone shut. "The minister has arrived. He's waiting for us at Nathan's summer cabin. It's just on the other side of the island from the corporate facilities."

_You mean the facilities you just can't wait to get your six slimy arms on, "Oliver." You must be pissing your pants at the anticipation._

"You know, Aunt May," I say, "isn't it bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding?"

"Oh, that's just a superstition," she chides. "Ben and I held to every tradition before our wedding, but times change and so do people."

"Do you happen to know the reason why most weddings are held in June, Parker?" Octavius addresses me.

He doesn't wait for my answer. "It's another superstition. In the days of the old Roman Empire, couples would marry in June to seek the blessing of the month's namesake, the pagan goddess of marriage Juno. Put that in your pipe and inhale. Speaking of—" He pulls out a cigar and a lighter.

"Oliver," May says, "not in the helicopter. Smoking's a filthy habit anyway."

"I'll put it out for you." He flicks it out the window. "Another foolish superstition concerns the wedding veil. Do you think your little girlfriend's going to put an evil eye on my May?"

"I wouldn't test me on that," Felicia snaps. "You never know."

Finally, the helicopter lands near the summer cabin. The helicopter was Nathan's, too; the front bore the symbol of Rosslyn Energy Alternatives, the five-petaled rose. I think I remember seeing the symbol in _The DaVinci Code_ as some sort of pagan sacred feminine symbol. That movie has a lot of pagan sacred feminine symbols.

I inquire of Aunt May, "Do you have the keys to the cabin."

She pulls them out. "The cabin has a bathroom, right?" I ask her. "Because I do hate to have to water a tree."

"Of course it does."

I step into the bathroom. Swanky, compared to my rathole sweet rathole back in Queens. It actually has real deluxe Charmin on the rolls and a real bathtub.

Perfect to put my spider suit on under my penguin suit. Right now, they don't notice me. I can hear Octavius ordering around the caterers. "Spread the tablecloth down there! It's supposed to look like a picnic, except it's a wedding reception and ten times better than an actual picnic!"

Outside, while slipping on my costume's red spiderwebbed socks, I can hear the buzzing of saws and the hammering of a wedding gazebo. Octavius turns his ire on the construction crews. "I don't tolerate stupidity in others," I hear him shout, "especially when I'm paying for their services!" May tells him to calm down and remember his heart condition. I've heard of Bridezillas before, but I seem to be dealing with a far rarer phenomenon—a superpowered Groomzilla.

Black Cat and I seem to have our work cut out for us, and speak of the devil...

"How did you get in here?" I turn around and ask.

"If I didn't know how to pick a lock, I wouldn't be a cat burglar, would I? I wanted to change into my costume, but my clothes seem to be less forgiving than yours. I'm staying in here. You can tell them I feel air sick but didn't want to toss cookies all over your new uncle."

"What do we have planned?" I ask. "Octavius can't be allowed to marry May. He'll get everything if she does. He'll get the reactor. And Heaven help us if he does."

She smirks. "A wedding might mean the end of the world," she says. "Don't worry. _I_ have something really big planned."

I step outside to the gazebo, where May waits. "Felicia's in the powder room, she gets sick on airplanes and the Rosslyn helicopter didn't have barf bags. Should I attend to her?"

"Oh, Peter, I needed you to give me away to my husband," she tells me. "You were the man of the house, you know."

"I thought we were bucking tradition," I smile. "Perhaps Felicia and I should take care of the catering and honeymoon details. I'll be preparing the honeymoon bed and cleaning the cabin. You and Oliver should have the private wedding you wanted, witnessed only by God and His servant. I wish you only the best and I'll see you at the reception." For the finishing touch, I hug her tightly. "I love you, Aunt May."

"Are we ready to get to business, my lovely bride-to-be?" Octavius beams. He soon yanks me aside, out of Aunt May's earshot. He whispers his message through gritted teeth. "She's going to be mine soon, and I would much appreciate you staying quite far away, understand?"

My reply is just as gritted. "Yes. _Sir_. Uncle."

"Are we ready to proceed?" the minister asks. I wait by the cabin in my costume. This is going to be the longest wedding I've ever attended. Wait—this is the only one I've ever attended. Well, after I attend some more weddings, I'll still say it's the longest.

"Maybe I should run over there right now," I tell Felicia.

Outside, the minister says: _"...we are called here to witness the joining of May Parker and Oliver Octavius in holy matrimony..."_

"No!" Felicia stays my hand. "You can't do it now. You have to wait until a certain time."

"_What_ time? There's a mad scientist out there getting precious seconds closer to getting his own nuclear reactor!"

"Everybody knows," Felicia scoffs, "you're supposed to wait until this one part in the ceremony. The minister will say, 'If there's a good reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,' and _then_ you stand up and say something like, 'I object, the groom is a gold-digger out for the bride's uranium mine.' Haven't you _ever_ seen a chick flick?"

"I'm not a chick," I say. I tap my toes, impatient. The groom starts tapping his foot as well; he's also impatient to get his hands on Rosslyn, all six of them. He's also tapping what looks like a watch.

"You wait until the minister says, _'Speak now or forever hold your peace,' _and _then_ you run up and say _'I object.' _Understand?"

"Yeah, of course." I crane my ears forward.

Finally, I hear the third sweetest words I've ever heard in my life. "_If any person has a reason why this woman and this man should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace..."_

I charge headlong onto the gazebo. "I object! I object! May Parker cannot be allowed to marry this man!"

Suddenly, four adamantium tentacles burst into view, coiled above his tuxedo. "This wedding _will_ take place, Spider-Man—over _your_ dead body!"

Just another day in the life of Peter Parker, called Spider-Man.


	12. Blasphemous Rumors, by Otto

The Trickster apologizes for the delay, caused by computer crashes and a chapter revision.

Two more chapters left! You can't wait!

Chapter 12: Blasphemous Rumors, by Otto Octavius

"_I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors_

_But I think that God has got a sick sense of humor,_

_And when I die, I expect to hear Him laughing..."_

Depeche Mode, "Blasphemous Rumors"

_Suddenly, the boy changes his mind. He would respect our wishes to have a private ceremony, an elopement, with the vows of matrimony witnessed only by God. _

_Why is he changing his mind now?_

_Possibly because his girlfriend Felicia is in the cabin bathroom heaving?_

_Or maybe he's on to me..._

_I tap the bracelet. I can't believe it's already going on the fritz. I'm surprised a mere prototype has lasted this long. But it just can't go out until the minister says I may now kiss the bride. I perform more percussive maintenance. _

_The minister begins. "Ladies and gentlemen," he addresses the catering and construction crews, since Peter and Felicia are absent— "we are gathered here in the presence of the Lord and our community to witness the joining of May Parker and Oliver Octavius in holy matrimony. For the Lord said of Adam, 'It is not good for man to be alone; let us make a helper for him,' and Eve was created then out of Adam's rib. And Adam said of Eve, 'She is now bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh'. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be of one flesh."_

"_If any person here has any reason why this woman and this man should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."_

_Then all my worst fears are confirmed. Peter Parker, in his Spider-Man guise, runs to the gazebo, his voice ringing through the island. "I object! I object! May Parker cannot be allowed to marry this man!"_

_The bracelet breaks and falls to the ground. I react before I think, no longer aware that May is still at the altar. It's one thing for the arachnid aberration to ruin my experiments, dash my dreams, but to disrupt my own wedding would not be tolerated._

"Spider-Man," I say. "What a pleasant surprise, and how unexpected. Are you here to meet single wedding guests?"

"Do I look like Vince Vaughn to you?" the bug retorts. "I knew you were up to no good, but this is insane!"

"What is Spider-Man doing here?" May asks, still clutching the altar.

He offers a lie. "Peter Parker called me up to stop this travesty. Ma'am, he's just a gold-digger out for your uranium mine!"

"Oliver, is that true?" May rounds on me.

"Maybe at first!" I desperately cry. "But after I knew you better, I discovered that I had truly loved you all along! The reactor means nothing now!"

"Oh and by the way," Spider-Man continues, "his name's not really Oliver, it's Otto—Dr. Otto Octavius, sometimes called Doctor Octopus! You've met him before, haven't you?"

"You _lied_ to me!" May yells.

"I was ashamed to tell the truth! You would have never loved me otherwise!"

"You should have trusted me!" May takes off the ring and throws it at me. I catch it, and run. On the tentacles this time, racing toward the facilities. I wanted to blow it up, prove to May that I loved _her_, not Rosslyn Island.

"He's getting away!" I hear Black Cat cry behind me.

"Tell me something I _don't _know!" Spider-Man yells. "He's heading toward the reactor!"

"Take me to him!" May screams to Felicia. "I can't just leave him there!"

_Does she still love me?_

"_He's gone!" Felicia shouts. "He's already at the reactor!"_

"_I'll look for him there!" the Spider tells her. "Maybe I'll catch him by surprise!"_

Luck, however, is on my side. I'm already waiting for him, at the Rosslyn nuclear reactor as he had guessed. "Welcome, Spider-Man! I've been expecting you here!"

Now comes the insipid banter the bug is famous for. "Forewarned is four-armed, huh, Doc?"

"Unfortunately for you," I reply, "that quip is destined to be your last!" The tentacles twist, flying towards the villain and coiling around his wrists. He merely wriggles free, grasps the arms, and yanks me forward, throwing me to a corner. "Perish the thought," he says, "I have material I haven't even used yet!"

Ah, Spider-Man, the last comic swinging. "Ten thousand unemployed comedians in New York City," I yell, "and you're looking for a job!"

It doesn't unnerve me, though. I would be dead now if I hadn't learned to land on my feet and not give up after a few hits. As I land on my tentacles, their pincers catching me as a cat lands on its feet, the bug's hated voice shouts, "Why does a spider cross the lab?"

A tentacle reaches for the nearest piece of debris. Unthinking, it hurls it at the bug, provoking even more imbecilic quips. "Easy there, I'm supposed to deliver the punchline!"

"Silence, insufferable clod!" I want him to shut up. "I shall hear no more!"

"Or what?" he taunts. "You'll stick your fingers in your ears?"

"No," I say, picking up another piece of concrete. "I'll shove this down your throat!"

He leaps out of the way of the flying concrete. "You missed! But you sure didn't do that equipment any good!"

I glance at the equipment panel, smashed. It can be fixed after the bug leaves me alone to claim it. "Run while you can! I'll catch you sooner or later and that will be the end of you!"

"If I have a choice, I'm awfully partial to later!" He twists out of the way of the tentacles—for the second time, I almost had him! "Hold _still_, blasted cretin!"

He stops in his tracks in front of me. Then he shoots that nasty web. When he does that, it almost looks like he's spitting on you, or worse—disgusting. The only way it would be more noxious was if the web came out of where it does on real spiders.

He missed, web merely landing on a shelf above me. "So, you have decided to stay and fight!" I look up at the shelf. "A pity you are so scared you cannot even aim your cursed spiderweb accurately."

"Yeah," he says. "Imagine my chagrin!"

The next thing I remember—and I am fairly certain things happened to Spider-Man before that—is water splashing on my face. "What in Heaven's name are you doing, Spider-Man?" I shake my hair dry. "You should have fled when you had the chance! You will _not_ get another!"

Spider-Man sounds desperate, even solicitous as he squirms in my tentacles' python grip. "Ock, wait! You don't understand!" He points to a display, counting down from twenty-nine seconds. "The reactor! _Look at the reactor!_"

"_What?_" I look at the display and drop him. "What have you done?"

"Nothing you can't undo—I hope!" he cries. "I never thought I'd admit this, but I need you in the _worst_ way!"

I scramble for the controls and start entering the old codes. The countdown continues: _10—9—8—_ "Hurry, Doc!" Spider-Man urges.

"Many thanks, moron!" I yell at him. _7—6—5—_ "If that reactor goes, we go with it!"

"So does most of the Eastern Seaboard, including New York!" _4—3—2—_

"I care nothing about this town, Spider-Man, or you!" I yell, racked with despair over what could have been. The codes don't work. A tentacle tears off an instrument plate. "But the world must not be denied my genius and—I might as well admit it—I must save May Parker!" I pop out the tentacle's blade, and cut the main power line.

_One._

The countdown stops, and I almost regret sharing my epiphany. As for that ingrate Spider-Man—

"Some genius, Doc! You almost killed us!"

"Because of your interference, idiot! You wrecked my lab, shattered my dreams, disrupted my wedding, chased away my love, but _never again! Do you hear me!_ I will see you dead, Spider-Man, for your compound wrongs, here and now!"

My second attack is stayed by Felicia's voice behind me. She now wears a mask, a black catsuit trimmed with fur.

_Felicia is the Black Cat?_

She has grabbed May, holding her in one arm while the other glove sprouts electric claws. "Don't move, either of you."

"May!" we both shout instinctively.

"Do you think I went to the wedding for the _refreshments_, Spidey?" she asks. "No, my employer pays me quite well to retrieve things he wants."

"What do you want, Cat?" I ask her. "Just let my bride go."

"What do you mean, your 'employer'?" Spider-Man asks.

She sneers. "My employer requests two things: that Spider-Man surrenders himself to Inverness penthouse in Manhattan, and that Doctor Octopus surrenders the technology funded by his company and still his property."

"You work for _Osborn_?" Spider-Man asks. "But how—Harry's dead!"

"But _Norman's _not. You didn't quite manage to kill him, did you?" She holds the claws closer to May's throat. "Now, come on. Both of you seem attached to this old bag, for some reason beyond my humble intellect."

"Leave that lady alone!" I growl.

"Don't you dare hurt her!" Spider-Man cries.

We scuttle up from the ground at the same time. Spider-Man attempts a desperate move, spurting webbing at Black Cat's face, blinding her. She still has May in a headlock, right hand attempting to pull the web off, a futile effort from my prior experience. But the clawed hand lowered to May's chest—

—but before the hand can move, the tentacle blade ran through Black Cat's black heart.

May collapses to the ground, but I catch her with a tentacle, easily lifting her up onto her feet. Her eyes flutter open. "Now that you know who I am," I ask her, "does this make us even?"

She averts her eyes, and does not reply.

Just another day in the life of Otto Octavius, called Doctor Octopus.


	13. The Story, by Peter

Chapter 13: The Story, by Peter

"_I've been thinking of everything _

_I used to want to be._

_I've been thinking of everything_

_Of me, of you, and me._

_This is the story of my life,_

_And these are the lies I have created._

_I'm in the middle of nothing_

_And it's where I want to be._

_While at the bottom of everything_

_I finally start to leave..."_

30 Seconds to Mars, "The Story"

_Right now, I'm storming the aisle, completely disrupting the wedding of my beloved aunt to my most brutal archfoe. He throws off his trenchcoat, mechanical tentacles coiling above his shoulders. I'm thinking that this may either be the absolute best or the absolute worst decision of my entire life. _

_I must be nuts to be doing this. _

_In fact, I must be a little nuts to be doing the whole superhero thing at all._

Doc Ock does not look happy right now. In fact, I'd say he was pissed. Wonder why.

"Spider-Man," he says. "What an unpleasant surprise, and how unexpected. Are you here to meet single wedding guests?"

I remain defiant. "Do I look like Vince Vaughn to you? You know what I'm here for!"

May is clutching the altar, looking like she's ready to faint. "What on earth is Spider-Man doing here?"

"Ma'am, Peter Parker called me up to stop this travesty. He told me your fiance is just a gold-digger out for your uranium mine!"

"Oliver, is that true?" she asks. "Please tell me it's not!"

Ock starts the spin. "Maybe at first! But after I got to know you, I started to love you for who you are! The reactor means nothing now!"

I took a deep breath, ready to say what I should have said long ago. "Oh and by the way," I say, pointing to the groom, "his name's not really Oliver, it's Otto—Dr. Otto Octavius, sometimes called Doctor Octopus! You've met him before, haven't you?"

May starts screaming at him. "You _lied_ to me!"

"I _had _to! I was ashamed to tell the truth!"

"You should have trusted me!" May takes off the ring and throws it at him.

"You shouldn't have trusted that boy of yours_!" he yells, indicating me with a tentacle. "Do you even know who your own nephew is?"_

_Oh shit. I am in trouble now._

"What about my nephew?"

But he takes off, racing towards the nuclear facilities on the other side of the island, leaving May to ponder the question. "Oh shit!" I say. "I'm going after him!"

Felicia races up behind me in her catsuit. "He's getting away!"

"Tell me something I _don't_ know, Mistress of the Fricking Obvious! He's heading for the reactor!"

"Take me to him, Felicia!" May pleads. "I can't just leave him there!"

"He's gone, May! He's already at the reactor!"

"Maybe not! I might still catch him by surprise!" I tell her.

_Come on. I heard that love is blind, but this is fucking ridiculous!_

_I start running as hard as I can. My heart is thumping in my chest, my legs are burning, and my pulse is pounding in my feet. I finally force my way into the door. Now I'll just surprise him._

_Oops. Maybe not._

"Welcome, Spider-Man!" he shouts from a corner. "I've been expecting you!"

"Forewarned is four-armed, isn't it Doc?" I reply. I seem to be famous for the battle banter. It helps me to focus on the battle and project a fearless image to my enemies. Unfortunately, supervillians never seem to have a sense of humor.

Thinking of things to say also helps me not to pee my pants while I'm in the middle of a nuclear power plant with a mad scientist's robotic tentacles coiling around my arms. I simply slip out of their grip, grasp hold of them, and throw him into the wall.

"Ten thousand unemployed comedians in New York City," he grumbles, "and you're looking for a job!" He simply lands lightly, his tentacle pincers supporting him like stilts. I swing around, try to confuse him and get the most advantageous position. I must quickly dodge the debris he starts to fling at me. I leap and somersault out of the way of each chunk of concrete he hurls, thanking my Creator for my spidey-sense.

One of the concrete chunks hits a control panel. Let's see him use that now. "Oops, you missed! You sure didn't do that equipment any good!"

"Run while you can, little bug!" Octopus shouts, tentacles once more reaching to coil around me. "I'll catch you sooner or later and that will be the end of you!"

"Well, I am awfully partial to later!" I say, twisting once more out of the arms. I had had the great idea of coating my suit with WD-40 before packing it to Canada. I then try my usual trick: shooting web at my enemy's face. It usually works like a charm.

Not this time. He simply peels it off his glasses like dried Elmer's glue off skin and shakes it away. "Your predictability shall be your downfall," he says. "You didn't think I'd have my glasses treated to resist your webs!"

Then I come up with a better idea, shooting my web once more at a shelf above him. He looks up and laughs at me. "So you have decided to stay and fight! A pity you are so scared you cannot even aim your accursed spiderweb accurately."

Smiling inside my mask, I yank the shelf down over his head. "Yeah! Imagine my chagrin!"

_Mission accomplished! He's knocked down cold! All I have to do now is web this overgrown Cartman up and crate him off to jail..._

_And then I hear the sirens._

I race over to the control panels, searching for the source of the malfunction. "I'll be the son of a bare-assed monkey's uncle!" The reactor is running wild and counting down a minute towards meltdown! I try to think fast, try to figure out the controls. Given time, I could probably do so, but time is something I don't have a lot of. And despite his flaws, Octavius is an engineering genius, I'll give him that. I just wish I had the sense to...

My spidey-sense starts to tingle, something behind me...crawling on four tentacles. "Doctor Octopus! Don't you even have the sense to know when you're beaten?"

Something's wrong. He doesn't even respond to my insults. Between the tentacles, his body hands limply., his trenchcoat flapping limply around him. He seems barely conscious, but his tentacles are acting out of reflex, their artificial intelligence completely taking over and completely out of control of his mind. The tentacles start to prowl around, start to attack me, their master helplessly along for the ride.

Which means that I am totally screwed. I have to worry about my life, not to mention May's, Felicia's, Otto's, and a few million others. But how do I explain _that_ to a set of robots?

The answer is: I don't. I explain that to Otto, appealing to his better side to restrain his arms. _I've convinced him to regain control of the tentacles before, and now in only a slightly different set of circumstances, I must try it again. The reactor has now reached critical mass, sixty seconds from a nuclear accident that could make Chernobyl look like a two-bit weenie roast. _

"Come on, Dr. Octavius!" I shout, dodging a tentacle. "You're the only one here with any hope of preventing a tragedy! _Please!_"

My eyes suddenly light on a mop bucket full of water. I throw it towards his face. "Please snap out of it!"

He coughs and sputters as he comes to. "What in Heaven's name are you doing, Spider-Man?" He shakes his hair dry and then remembers his reason for being there. "You should have fled when you had the chance! You will not get another!" He renews his attacks in earnest, once more grasping and dangling me in his tentacles.

"Dr. Octavius, you don't understand!" I point to the display, now counting down from twenty-nine seconds. "The reactor! _Look at the reactor!_"

"_What?_" He drops me as it starts to sink in. "What have you done?"

"Nothing you can't do—I hope! I never thought I'd admit this—but I need your help in the _worst_ way!"

He scrambles for the controls. "Many thanks, moron! If that reactor goes, we go with it!"

_You're the one who threw a big chunk of concrete into the middle of it and _I'm _the moron?_

"Yeah, so does most of the Eastern Seaboard, including New York!"

"I care nothing about this town, Spider-Man, nor you! But the world must not be denied my genius!"

"Are you shitting me?" I scream at him. "What about May? You said you loved her, truly loved her, no matter what happened with this reactor! If you care about her one iota—"

"I do not need reminded of my love, _especially_ when you seemed to have hidden your double life from your 'beloved' aunt all this time!" He pops out his tentacle blade, and cuts a main power line. "In fact, if we get out of here alive today, I shall drag you to your aunt and personally strip you of your mask myself!"

The countdown finally stops. I feel around my pants for a warm wet spot and feel relieved there isn't one. "Some genius," I feel bold enough to say. "You almost killed us!"

"Because of _your_ interference, idiot! You wrecked my lab, shattered my dreams, disrupted my wedding, chased away my love, but _never again! Do you hear me? _ I will see you dead, Spider-Man, for your compound wrongs, here and now, and as you lay dying, I shall make good on my previous threat!"

_Well, now that the Doc has officially gone off the deep end..._

Then I hear Felicia's voice behind me. She has May grasped in one arm while the other glove sprouts those electric claws. "Don't move, either of you."

"May!" I shout. Just when this day couldn't get any worse...

"Do you think I went to your stupid wedding for the _refreshments_, Spidey?" she asks. "No, my employer pays me quite well to retrieve things he wants."

"What do you want, Black Cat?" Otto asks her, panting for breath. "No price is too high. Just let my wife go."

I catch my breath at those words. Maybe Ock does still have a heart. Maybe he really loved her after all. Maybe I should have left well enough alone. Everyone deserves a second chance, after all. "What do you mean, your 'employer'?

Sneering at us, she gives her demands. "My employer requests two things: that Spider-Man surrenders himself to Inverness penthouse in Manhattan, and that Doctor Octopus surrenders the technology funded by his company and still his property."

"You work for _Osborn_?" I sputter. "But how—Harry's dead!" I saw that myself.

"But _Norman's _not. You didn't quite manage to kill him, did you?" She holds the claws closer to May's throat. "Now, come on, get with the program. Both of you seem attached to this old bag, for some reason beyond my humble intellect."

"Leave that lady alone!" Octavius growls, using the tentacles to crawl up.

"Don't you dare hurt her!" I add. _I swore to protect you, May. I swore to never let anyone hurt you. I'm a failure, a miserable failure, I'm so sorry..._

_I do the only thing I can. It was a long shot anyway. I do to her what didn't work on him. I shoot my spiderweb at her face, blinding her. She doesn't let go, she still has May in a headlock and her clawed hand lowered toward May's throat..._

_And before the hand can move, before I can think clearly and take action, Otto has already impaled Felicia with his tentacle blade. May collapses to the ground, and I look at Felicia's body, and I look at May, and I look at Otto, and I wonder whether to thank him or curse at him..._

Just another day in the life of Peter Parker, called Spider-Man.


	14. Epilogue: The Minutes to Midnight

To my reviewers: Thank you for your patience, your replies will be arriving shortly.

Chapter 14: Minutes to Midnight

Epilouge: Peter

"_Your lips say that you love,_

_Your eyes say that you hate._

_There's truth in your lies,_

_Doubt in your faith._

_What you build you lay to waste."_

Linkin Park, "In Pieces"

_In movies, it all works out in the end. Real life isn't nearly so neat. _

_I shouldn't have been surprised that Mary Jane told me she was breaking up for good this time. She told me I couldn't tell love from a self-delusion. Everything that I thought was romantic love was just people using each other and lying to each other. Mary Jane knew it, knew it all along, but I lied to her up until circumstances forced me to come clean. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked. "I was at my house when your uncle was murdered. I saw you enter your room in a sweater and exit on a web in your costume. You should have trusted me."_

_I thought Felicia loved me, but she lied to me until circumstances forced her to confess she was working for Norman Osborn. May thought Otto loved her, but he lied to her until he was forced to confess he was out for her uranium mine and reactor. I thought Mary Jane didn't love me anymore, but she lied until she confessed yesterday that Goblin forced her to, the better to leave me open for Felicia's highly suggestive feminine wiles. _

_The truth only came to light until the battle at the reactor, but it would have come out anyway. It just took the fusion reaction to do it in this case. Lies shrink from the light. Vampires cower before mirrors. Apollo, Greek god of the sun, is also the god of truth. But every time I look at my aunt, I am reminded that I had to revive my archenemy from a concussion with a bucket of water during a battle because I was unable to avert a nuclear disaster without his assistance._

_What a tangled, tangled, web we weave indeed. _

_I'm sure all you bloggers have enjoyed this little story, but I must log off at this point; right now someone's calling me and it seems that Dr. Connors had an unfortunate accident with his lizards._

_I pull on my costume. It's hero time..._

_**Finis**_

"_For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,_

_Who art as black as hell, as dark as night."_

William Shakespeare, _Sonnet 147_

Epilouge: Otto

"_Let me apologize to begin with._

_Let me apologize for what I'm about to say._

_But trying to be someone else was harder than it seemed,_

_And somehow I got caught up in between._

_Between my pride and my promise _

_Between my lies and how the truth gets in the way_

_The things I want to say to you get lost before they come _

_The only thing that's worse than one is none."_

Linkin Park, "In Between"

_I fiddle with my wedding ring. I had taken it off when I started dating May. I place it on my finger now. The ring reflects more of Rosie's heritage than mine; it is a _claddaugh_, an Irish design of two hands holding a crowned heart, symbolizing love, loyalty, and friendship. I cradle in my hand Rosie's identical ring, the ring I offered to May, two hands holding a gold-crowned heart-shaped diamond. I wondered then whether I should have left it to rot with Rosie's body. I decided not to. I was right then._

_In retrospect, it wasn't my identity after all. It wasn't even the issue of the nuclear reactor, now destroyed. It was my lies, my cover-ups, the time when my lies were laid bare when Doctor Octopus was unleashed to defend May from a psychopathic blonde in a catsuit. _

_It was me. It was all me, all along. My lies made what could have been a wonderful romance into a large gray fog._

_And some things should remain black and white. _

_But for now, there is a scientific conference at Empire State University I would dearly like to visit, and some state-of-the-art equipment I would dearly like to see..._

**Finis**

"_The evil that men do lives after them;_

_The good is oft interred with their bones."_

William Shakespeare, _Julius Caesar_

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed reading this at least as much as I enjoyed writing it. Until the next thrilling story, _Sayonara!_


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